Rounded
Adj.

1. Shaped into the form of a circle or sphere; made round.

2. Linguistics Pronounced with the lips shaped ovally; labialized.

3. Complete; balanced: a rounded meal
4. A pregnant woman

Okay... I added the fourth one.

Julia (one of the Landa sisters) wrote on Facebook that her husband Brent called her a blueberry because she's round like one. I thought that was one of the cutest and most endearing things a man can call his pregnant wife (nicely done, Brent)! I'll take feeling or looking like a dainty little blueberry any day (okay, maybe not blue or purple like one). At 38 weeks though, I'm not, by any stretch of the imagination, a cute little blueberry. I'm more like a lead ball: all round and weighty.

Incidentally, you know what else is also round? Babies! Unlike a baby, however, my roundness doesn't necessarily trigger this fountain of warmth in your gut that makes you go all goo-goo-ga-ga. It might also make you go "Aw~~", but more out of sympathy. Whether it's a blueberry vs. a lead ball or a baby vs. a pregnant woman, the difference is simple: Round + Small = Cute, whereas Round + Big = Mmmm.... not so cute.

Though I may not feel and look as cute as a button, I do find my roundness rather amusing:

• My face is no longer in an oval shape and my chin... heh! what chin?!
• My eyes, my nose, my cheeks, even my hair is round and puffy.
  
• If you thought my lips were pouty before I got pregnant, you haven't seen my new found Angelina lips! Only mine are so dry and chapped that I have to do some major Carmexing, so they actually look like greasy wieners more than juicy cherries.
  
• My neck is thick and veiny as if I've been injecting myself with Steroids for years.
  
• I look like I'm wearing shoulder pads even when they're bare.
• My boobs... I HAVE BOOBS now! Enough said.
• My limbs are like.... either Pillsbury Dough Boy or the Michelin Man. Take your pick!
• Oh and this is weird: I've got tiny little white-headed pimples on and above my knees. What's with that? Wait... this one is not related to roundness at all, is it?!
  
• At the end of the day or after a walk, my feet feel and look like fresh-out-of-the-oven French buns, all warm and pudgy. Too bad they don't smell as good.
  
• Since it's difficult to perform any kind of "foot care" with a belly in the way, the bottom of my feet has turned into #50 sandpaper. It even makes noises when it's brushed against the bed sheet.
  

Sexy, isn't it?! I'm thankful that Bill still told me that I'm beautiful this morning... even after watching (and laughing at) how I flopped my arms and legs around like a turtle on its back just to get up from the couch. He eventually helped me up.